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Once upon a time there was a blade of grass. She was in great despair; she kept being either frozen, flooded, burned by the sun, or trampled upon by hundreds of heavy shoes and boots! Just when she was beginning to be happy, stretching upward to the blue sky and warm sun, listening to the birds call to one another, and feeling the breeze caress her, she was cut down, flattened out, and pressed against the earth. Someone who did not know what he was doing cut her so short that she could hardly breathe, and she certainly could not hear the birds’ songs or feel the breeze. After a few days, she noticed that she had grown a little and could begin to stretch out and look up to the sky again.

However, after a few weeks the sun burned so intensely that she lost all her beautiful green colour and turned brown and dry. She thought for sure that the end was near. Just at that moment, the rain came, and she drank deeply of the cool moisture. Soon, again, she regained her colour.

Something always seemed to happen to hurt her or put her in danger: the ice and snow, the hot sun, or people walking, running, and jumping on her. Life was not worth living this way!

One day a beautiful butterfly landed close by. There was something wonderful about this butterfly. The blade of grass began to talk to her and eventually told her her story of sorrow.

The butterfly was very sympathetic and began to speak. “I can appreciate how you feel, but I must say I am quite surprised by your story. You see, from my perspective, way up high above you in this field, I watch you day after day. I see how you are so flexible and that the worst storms never break you, no matter what happens to you. Being stepped on repeatedly, being frozen or burnt – you always pick yourself up, look up, and stretch yourself high to the sky and clouds. And when you wind blows, I can hear your soft beautiful song.”

The blade of grass thanked the butterfly and was quiet for a long time. Then she began to smile to herself and hum a happy song – for she at last realised that her whole life was one of success.

In all the world there is no one else exactly like me.
Everything that comes out of me is authentically mine because I alone chose it.
I own everything about me – my body, my feelings, my mouth, my voice;
all my actions, whether they be to others or to myself. I own my fantasies, my dreams, my hopes, my fears.
I own all my triumphs and successes, all my failures and mistakes.
Because I own all of me, I can become intimately acquainted with me.
By so doing, I can love me and be friendly with me in all my parts.
I know there are aspects about myself that puzzle me, and other aspects that I do not know.
But as long as I am friendly and loving to myself, I can encourage me and hopefully look for solutions to the puzzles and for ways to find out more about me.
However I look and sound, whatever I say and do, and whatever I think and feel at a given moment in time is authentically me.
Later, if some parts of how I looked, sounded, thought, and felt turn out to be unfitting, I can discard that which is unfitting, keep the rest, and invent something new for that which I discarded.
I can see, hear, feel, think, say, and do.
I have the tools to survive, to be close to others, to be productive, and to make sense and order out of the world of people and things outside of me.
I own me, and therefore I can engineer me.

It only seems right that I dedicate my first thought to the wonderful souls who have shown incredible support, inspiration and guidance in helping me turn a dream into reality.

To create the life you desire and so deserve takes courage and determination, courage to take on the challenges that emerge and determination to keep going in the face of adversity. In light of all the challenges I have faced, and in amidst the darkness of my growth, I must give thanks to the souls who never fail to keep the flame burning in order for my darkness to return to light.

With all my heart I thank you.

“Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like
wrapping a present and not giving it.”William Arthur Ward